Spot's Revenge
by Morning Dew
Summary: The sequel to "A Little Spunk". Four months have passed since Spot and Spunks last spoke. Now Spot has a girl, can Spunks win him back? Continued in "Spot's Past, Spunks' Future".


DISCLAIMER: once again, these characters do not belong to me. They do indeed belong to Disney. So please play nice and don't sue me!  
  
Spot's Revenge  
  
Spunks sat on the corner of her bed, gazing out one of the windows of the Manhattan Lodging House, as she thought about how quickly the New Year had come. It had seemed as if winter was just yesterday. But the blooming of colorful flowers all about New York told her differently. It was the season for rebirth and more specifically, the season for love.  
  
She rose from where she sat and made her way downstairs. She had finished selling her papers surprisingly early today and now she alone occupied the lodging house. Her black hair was French braided into pigtails and she wore a beige hat over her head. She didn't dress like she used to anymore. A few months ago, she was the flirt who always wore skirts above her knees and blouses that revealed her female features, but lately, she had taken to dressing in baggy, boy attire. When asked about it, she simply replied that she was taking on a new lead in life  
  
She sighed. Not a day went by that she didn't think about Spot Conlon. For a short period of time, they had been lovers. Had given a precious gift to each other that would always be cherished in memories. But she had ruined it all and had caused him so much pain in doing so. It had been almost four months since she had last seen Spot. She would have to pay him a visit sometime this week.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Spot cracked his knuckles as he walked up to the doorstep of his girlfriend's house. He felt awkward roaming around the Victorian area. He wished Jenna would stay living at the lodging house like she used to. She had only become a newsie because her family was having trouble with their income and since she lived so far away from any distribution centers, she lodged in Brooklyn. But when her dad was given a new job, she was free to return to the normal lifestyle of a midclass teenager.  
  
Spot rang the doorbell and waited. The freshly painted door opened a moment later and in the doorway stood a beautiful, young lady with long blonde hair framing her face. She stretched out her arms and gave Spot a warm hug in greeting.  
  
"Youse ready tah go?" he asked her, still in the embrace. She pulled away from him and nodded. "Foist I'se gotta make a stop in Manhattan though." He gently took her hand and off they walked side by side to celebrate their two month anniversary.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Heya Jacky-Boy!"  
  
Jack Kelly turned around at the familiar voice and found himself looking at his best friend, Spot. They spit-shook and then Jack noticed the girl whose hand Spot was holding. "Spot, youse didn't tell me ya were back wid Jenna."  
  
"I'se been wid her fer a while now, Jacky."  
  
"Well, I wouldn't know. Ya haven't come tah Manhattan since-"Jack stopped short, not sure whether he should continue.  
  
Spot arched an eyebrow, confused, but soon he realized where Jack was getting at. "Since Spunks? Well, I'se been busy, alright? 'Sides, I shoah as hell don't wanna come heah so long as that goil is one of yer newsies." Letting go of Jenna's hand, he crossed his arms and gave Jack one of his sardonic looks. He knew Spunks was like a sister to Jack and that he probably didn't appreciate what Spot had just said about her.  
  
"Well, she's still one of me newsies so what is youse doin heah?"  
  
Spot rolled his eyes. "Ah, never mind that. Actually, I came tah tell youse that Brooklyn's havin a poker game next Saturday. I'se invitin newsies from all ovah New Yawk. So make shoah ya get some of yer best players tah come cuz there aint nuthin like winnin Manhattan's money." He smirked and grabbed Jenna around the waist, and made his way to the doorway. At that moment, a small figure dressed in newsie clothes came rushing in to the lodging house. The newsie crashed into Spot and they both tumbled to the floor in a tangled heap.  
  
"Watch where youse is goin!" Spot yelled.  
  
The smaller newsie pushed Spot aside and jumped to his feet. "Maybe if youse weren't standin in the way like some dumbbell I wouldn't have bumped into ya." He started to make his way to the staircase, but Spot grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back. Both gasped when they looked into each other's eyes.  
  
"Spot!"  
  
"Spunks!"  
  
The Brooklyn leader was so surprised by the fact that the newsie was a girl, but even more so by the fact that it was Spunks- the number one person on his hate list up to date. He stood there staring at her with calm eyes, his hand still grasping her arm. Being not in the mood to start a fight, Spunks lowered her eyes and tried to focus on an object on the floor. But Spot had been waiting a long time to humiliate the girl.  
  
"So Spunky, youse been sleepin around wid anyone lately? Ya know, in case youse is interested, the whore house across from the Queens lodging house is looking fer some goils that don't give a damn about love. If ya want, I can give 'em yer name."  
  
Spunks merely looked up sorrowfully. The words had hurt her deeply but she knew that a comeback would only make Spot hate her all the more. "Lemme go. I'se aint in the mood."  
  
"Was last night too tiring fer youse? What a shock! You'd think someone wid yer experience would be use tah-"His words decrescendoed in volume when he saw a lone tear stream across Spunks' delicate cheeks. At that sight, he felt a portion of his heart tear apart. Why was he making her feel miserable? Because she did it tah youse! He yelled at himself. Did that justify his revenge though?  
  
"Please lemme go," Spunks almost cried. When Spot's fingers released her, she turned on her heels and hurried up the stairs across the room.  
  
Jack looked at Spot incredously. "I'se aint got the slightest idea what's goin on between you two, but if I'se ever heah ya talk tah Spunks like that again, I swear I'll soak ya meself!"  
  
Spot stared after Spunks and sighed. "Yea, alright. Listen, don't ferget about the game, alright?" He left then and Jenna trailed after him confused.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Heya Race, how were the tracks tahday?" Spunks was almost recovered from her encounter earlier with Spot, but she felt as if she needed to talk about it with someone. Though Jack was one of her best friends, she thought it would be best to share her feelings for Spot with Race.  
  
Race gave her one of his 'don't even ask' looks and stood beside her on the fire escape of the lodging house. "So whatchya doin up heah all alone?"  
  
"Thinkin. Spot came over tahday. He's still mad at me fer what I did." Race was the only one who knew that Spunks and Spot had 'slept together'. "I don't blame him, but he said some pretty mean stuff. It broke me heart all ovah again. I don't know what tah do! I wish I could stop thinkin about him…" She trailed off.  
  
Race felt sorry for the girl. He knew how much she loved Spot and how bad she felt about hurting him. He grabbed her face between his hands and kissed her softly on the lips. She did not try to stop him so he deepened it gradually. Little did Spunks know, Race still had feelings for her after they had ended their relationship many months ago. He did not have the courage yet to tell her, but he intended to before Valentine's Day, which fell on the coming Saturday.  
  
Eventually, Spunks pushed Race away sadly. "I can't do this, not while Spot is still on me mind." Race nodded, fully understanding. Maybe this was going to be harder than he thought.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Spot leaned against the wall of an alley reading the headlines of today's paper. He was selling in Manhattan today, mostly because he felt like he needed to talk to Spunks. However, he did not know what to say or do. Should he remain angered by the past and be unforgiving or should he at least listen to her explanation- assuming that she had one- without interjecting insults?  
  
He bit his gums in contemplation and wondered where Spunks was. She should be passing around at any moment. He knew her selling route like the back of his hand. When she had stayed in Brooklyn with him, they had talked about their favorite selling areas. Suddenly he heard whistling up ahead. He crouched down and peeked around the corner of the alley to see who it was. Sure enough, with a stack of papers still under her arm, Spunks was heading in his direction. Right when she was passing by, he grabbed her around the waist and placed one hand over her mouth to prevent her from screaming.  
  
Spunks was beyond startled. The attack was so swift and unexpected that her heart rate had sped up incredibly. She knew what was coming next. Her violator would knock her unconscious and then take full advantage of her, only to abuse her all the more if she were to wake up early. She struggled against the arm tightly wrapped around her waist like an iron clamp but escape proved unsuccessful. Then she thought to bite the warm hand across her lips. At first, she could only slide her tongue out but when the moisture loosened the grasp, she managed to open her mouth and chomp down with her front teeth on the flesh. From behind her, the one who held her yelled and pushed her away.  
  
She tripped over herself from the push and fell onto a puddle of dirty water, staining her beige knickers. A foot away from her stood a trash can and at its side laid a broken, beer bottle. She thought to teach her violator a lesson about messing with young ladies. She reached for the glass object but the young man jumped on top her, making her yell out in pain. Her ribs felt like they had just been broken.  
  
She felt herself being roughly turn over and then she was face to face with the goon. The goon who looked an awful lot like Spot. The goon who was Spot!  
  
"Whaddya think youse is doin!" she screamed up at him. It felt weird to be in the position she was in and it was hard for her to not be affected by it.  
  
Spot felt her uneasiness and got off of her. He held out a hand to help her up but she did not accept it and instead climbed to her feet by herself. Then she crossed her arms and waited for an explanation.  
  
"So…. how's it been rollin lately?" He asked, not really caring what her answer would be. He wanted to get straight to the problem.  
  
"Alright."  
  
Uncomfortable silence as they simply stared at each other. Spunks wanted to say so much, she had been waiting for this moment for a long time. Her chance to tell Spot how much she cared about him and how much she was sorry for breaking his heart. She wanted to tell him that she would never lie to him again and that she loved him to death. Loved him so much that she didn't know what to do. Instead, she tapped her foot and waited for Spot to speak again.  
  
"Did ya know me and Jenna were goin out? Yesterday was our two month anniversary. She's a sweet goil, would nevah hoit a fly. And the best part is that she's so innocent. Me boys could be tellin dirty jokes and she'll just sit there and look at me in confusion. I'se aint sayin I like naïve goils, but it's a change from goils who just…use ya."  
  
Spunks glared at him. "Spot, listen. I'se aint nevah had any intention of usin ya fer anything. I dunno what was wrong wid me. The truth is that I lo-"  
  
"Yea, yea, yea. Yer so full of it! What are ya telling me? More lies? I'se over ya, Spunky, but I don't want us tah be enemies. I found someone who really cares fer me, and that's worth everything!" He paused to regain his composure. He didn't mean to be so dramatic. "Anyways, I'll see ya around. I got tah get tah sellin these papes."  
  
He left Spunks behind infuriated. Spot hadn't even let her express her feelings for him. She threw her hat to the ground and cursed. She was tired of being this new person. She had only changed for Spot and saw that it was all in vain. Perhaps she should go back to her flirtateous ways and forget about the Brooklyn leader. It would probably produce better results. She grinned and hurried off to finish selling her papers as well.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Jack's jaw dropped open when he saw Spunks the next afternoon. She had agreed to accompany him to Brooklyn and had asked him to give her a minute while she changed clothes. He expected her to switch pants or to put on a larger shirt, but upon seeing her in a miniskirt, he gasped. "Youse back tah yer old ways now?"  
  
She flashed him a smile he hadn't seen in what seemed like ages, and her eyes sparkled mischievously. Even her walk had returned to its strutting pace with her shoulders held back and head high, proudfully. She moved with confidence and looked greatly self-assured. Her white blouse was tight and unbuttoned to reveal a bit of her bra. She laughed when some of the Manhattan newsies present began catcalling at her, but blew kisses at her fans with a wink.  
  
"Yer ready, Jack?" She put her hands on her hips and pursed her lips.  
  
Jack was staring at her; she had grown a lot since last he noticed. "Shoah."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Spunks walked with an air of infallibility as she and Jack approached the docks of Brooklyn. Her hips were swaying from side to side as she hummed a four quarter beat melody in her head. She could already see Spot in the distance, standing at his usual post during the late afternoon. Jack was still wondering what had brought about Spunks' sudden change in…behavior. It did relieve him though to see her return to her natural state. She seemed more free.  
  
"Spot! Youse wanted tah talk so get yer sorry ass ovah heah cuz I aint gonna be walkin any farther than I'se gots tah." Jack laughed as Spot rolled his eyes and jumped down from his post to meet him. He hesitated for a second when he saw Spunks, but brushed it off coolly.  
  
"Bout time, Jacky. Youse had me thinking that the bulls had soaked ya on yer way heah." As usual, they spit-shook. A loud raucous caught Spot's ears then. He realized that his boys were making catcalls at Spunks and that she wasn't helping to quiet them. As a matter of fact, she was encouraging them to get louder by blowing kisses and making gestures. "That's enough! Spunks aint heah tah put on no strip show!"  
  
"Afraid yer boys are payin closer attention tah someone other than youse?" Spunks remarked disdainfully. Spot looked at her and was about to say something when Jack cut him off.  
  
"So what did ya wanna see me fer? I'se aint got all day, ya know."  
  
"Yeah, Spot," Spunks added, "our woild doesn't revolve around ya!" She grinned at the look on his face, pleased that she was able to madden him.  
  
"Ya know what, goil, I'se don't remember askin ya tah come pay me a visit." He stepped up to her and they began to stare each other down. It amused him that Spunks didn't exactly come close to him in height. With the help of her hat, she came up to his nose and so had to crane her neck back a little to look directly into his eyes. He let his gaze fall from her eyes to her lips. They were like the delicate, peach lines on a porcelain doll and a sudden urge to kiss them came to life within his body. He closed his eyes tight and turned his head away.  
  
Spunks furrowed her eyebrows. She saw how his staring had wandered from her eyes. Was she getting to him? Her features smoothed out and her expression became monotonous. "Spot, what's the matter wid youse? I knows ya find me irresistible and all but ya gotta pull yerself tahgether, huh?"  
  
All of a sudden, Spot turned on her. "Damn youse, Spunks! I hate how ya play around wid people's feelings. Ya can't just stride in heah and floit wid twenty newsies at one time, if ya only mean tah get back at one! I told ya, I'se ovah youse so it's no use. Go back tah Manhattan, go make out wid Race some more, but don't ever come tah Brooklyn again if youse just tryin tah win me ovah."  
  
"I wouldn't call that tryin tah win ya ovah," Spunks retorted. "Youse were close tah fallin head ovah heals if I do say so meself!"  
  
Spot leapt at her but she quickly moved out of the way and he crashed to the ground, covering his face in dirt. She tried to hold her laughter but was no longer able to restrain it and burst out. Figuring she had overstayed her welcome, she started off back to Manhattan, telling Jack she would meet up with him later. As an afterthought, she turned around and sarcastically yelled, "I Wuv Ya Spotty!" before laughing some more.  
  
* * * * *  
  
February 12 had come and that only meant one thing. Spot's big poker game was in two days as was Valentine's Day. Race felt the palms of his hands become sweaty. He decided that he would tell Spunks how he felt about her today, no matter what happened. Even if she came running up to him, professing her love for Spot, he would not be able to help blurting out that he loved her. He paced back and forth on the rooftop of the lodging house. He had told her to meet him there at sunset. He wanted the mood to be a romantic one when he poured out his heart to her. He had spread out a thick blanket where they could lay, and even cooked some dinner. It was a sort of picnic. Just off the edge of the blanket were lined up small candles, burning off scents of vanilla.  
  
"Remember," Race said aloud, "youse gotta go through wid this tahday. Don't wait another minute. Like Davey said durin the strike, seize the day!"  
  
"Who are ya talkin tah?"  
  
Race spun around to see Spunks standing behind him. He blushed, wondering if she had heard him. "Ah, just meself. Ever noticed how some of the best conversations we have is wid ourselves?" Spunks laughed and followed him over to the blanket that was laid out.  
  
"Oh Race," she exclaimed, "this is so beautiful! Ya did all this fer me?"  
  
He nodded, took her hand, and pulled her down beside him. "Spunks, the reason for all this splendor is simple. I have something that I wanted tah tell youse. But foist, let's have dinner before the food gets cold."  
  
"Dinner!" Spunks' eyes sparkled when Race pulled out from a basket a large plate with a cover over it. He removed the cover to reveal fettuccine drenched in Alfredo sauce, Spunks' favorite dinner food. From the basket he also took out two slices of apple pie and a small salad. The two friends ate the delicious food away and then lay on their backs staring up at the sky.  
  
"So what did youse wanna tell me?"  
  
Race took a deep breath. He didn't know where to start. "Spunks, how long did we'se know each other before youse became a newsie?"  
  
"Mmm, about a year." Spunks turned over on her stomach. "Why?"  
  
"And after about six months, we went out. Then we broke up because we thought we were bettah off as friends. But I nevah stopped lovin youse when we ended it. And even now I still luv ya. I just thought youse should know. Maybe we could woik things out er sumthin." He held his breath. He couldn't believe he had just let everything come out like that. What would she say?  
  
Spunks dropped her head down sadly. She was at a lost for words. Race was her best friend and the relationship they had shared long ago was indeed special. And she still cherished it dearly, but her heart had already moved on to another. Now she only saw Race as her closest friend, nothing more.  
  
"Race, I don't know what tah say. Ya know I luv ya too, just not the way you would want me to. Our friendship means the woild tah me and I think it's best if we'se keep it at that. Ya know I'll always be heah fer youse no mattah what and I'se sorry I couldn't give ya the answer you wanted."  
  
"It's okay," Race said softly. "As long as we'se still keep our friends wid benefits relationship." They both laughed and Race leaned in to kiss her gently on the lips. She grinned at him and they flirted with each other up until Jack yelled at them to come back inside.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Spot fidgeted in his three piece suit as he sat across from Jenna in the three-star restaurant her uncle owned. He would much rather prefer to wear his worn-out clothes and catch a bite to eat at a vendor's cart. But Jenna had insisted that they come here to discuss some important matters.  
  
"Spot, youse enjoyin yerself? Ya seem tah be preoccupied." Jenna took a napkin off the table and folded it onto her lap. She had always been a proper lady even when she was a newsie.  
  
"I just don't like being in the company of muckety-mucks. What do ya have tah say that couldn't be said somewhere else?" Spot had borrowed the suit he wore from one of Jenna's cousins who was around his same age. He couldn't wait to get it off.  
  
"Don't get mad at me, okay?" Spot nodded and she continued. "My family doesn't really approve of me seein youse. Now that we'se back on our feet, they kinda think I'se desoive bettah. So me father is tryin tah hook me up wid some guy I'se nevah even met before. I figured I should just go along wid it; it's probably fer the best. The man's name is Gerald and he'll be able tah take care of me fer the rest of our lives. So I'se just wanted tah tell youse that, we need tah end our relationship."  
  
The words hit Spot like a speeding train. What was it with girls and the words they said these days? He just didn't understand it at all. Here Jenna was dumping him for a secure life over love? I guess she nevah did love ya aftah all, Conlon. Spot pushed back his chair and arose to his feet. "Nice tah see how people are prioritizing their lives these days. Congratulations on yer engagement. I hope youse grow tah love Gerald very much." He left the restaurant without saying another word.  
  
* * * * *  
  
It was Friday the 13th when Davey and Less slept over the Manhattan Lodging House for a small party Jack was hosting. All the newsies were sitting around listening to Jack tell ghost stories with a flashlight held up to his face. Davey was on constant alert. It wasn't that he was superstitious, but he knew that people acted especially crazy on days like these.  
  
"Heya everybody," Blink said as he walked in with an umbrella in his hand. The rain outside was pouring down in a loud clamor. Blink shook the raindrops off his umbrella and then joined the other newsies.  
  
"Uhm, Blink?" Davey said. "Can you make sure no one opens that umbrella as long as we are inside?"  
  
Jack stopped in the middle of his story. "Ah, c'mon, Davey. Youse don't actually think youse is gonna get bad luck if someone does?"  
  
"I just don't want to take any risks."  
  
Jack rolled his eyes and continued with his story. Just then Race walked in with a black bundle of fur cuddled in his arms. "Heya fellahs! Look, I'se found a stray on the street corner. She's really sweet. Do ya think Kloppman will let us keep it?" The younger newsies ran to Race's side to get a better look at the animal. It was a cat.  
  
David grew tense. "A black cat? Of all kinds of cats you could have found, it had to be a black one?!"  
  
"Ah, Davey. Don't be such a pansy!" All the newsies burst out laughing. David was always good for a couple of laughs. They gathered a bunch of blankets near the fireplace and let the cat snuggle in front of the warmth.  
  
"And now," Jack said, "if there won't be any more interruptions, I'll get back tah me story." Everyone sat anxiously awaiting what would happen to the main character in Jack's horror story while Davey kept an eye on the black cat.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Spunks was sorting through her clothes, trying to pick an out an outfit to wear to the poker game tomorrow in Brooklyn. Since it was also Valentine's Day, she wanted to wear her red plaid skirt, but was unsure which blouse she should throw on with it. Then her hands came upon a thin, peasant blouse that was flooded with memories. It was the one she had worn the night she and Spot had…..  
  
Tears gathered in her eyes. That night had meant so much to her because she too had been a virgin, although she had told Spot otherwise. She brought the piece of clothing up to her face and smelled it. She thought she could still smell Spot's fragrance all over it, but it was probably just her imagination and longing. It matched her skirt perfectly; she decided she would wear it tomorrow.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Spot ran his fingers through his hair as he descended the stairs of his lodging house and entered into his room. He really wasn't in the mood to have the big poker game tomorrow, but he never went back on his promises and knew the show had to go on. Once inside his room, he lit some candles to soothe the temper that was rising within him. The rain tapping against his window calmed him as well. He loved the rain. Though it was bad for workdays, it made the nights an interesting environment for contemplation.  
  
Rampant thoughts of Jenna ran through his mind. The months they had been together were great, but he admitted to himself that he had only liked her-not loved her.  
  
When it came to love, he could only think of Spunks, as much as he despised that fact. Spunks is like the devil incarnate. He sighed. But if she's sorry fer what she did, why shouldn't I fergive her? He fell asleep trying to find the answer to that question.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Finally the day all New York newsies had been waiting for came. Papers were sold at an incredible rate and lodging houses were nearly empty as everyone made their way to Brooklyn for the big poker game. The streets were flooded with youth from Queens, The Bronx, Manhattan, Staten Island, and other major boroughs that had been invited.  
  
Jack was walking up ahead of his newsies with a cigarette in his mouth. "Heya Spot, did youse invite the whole state of New Yawk?!"  
  
Spot smirked and walked up to the taller boy. "Jacky, how many times do I'se got tah tell youse that smoking is bad fer ya health?" His smirk grew wider. "And that if youse is gonna smoke, ya bettah be ready tah share the wealth." He snatched the cigarette from Jack's mouth and inhaled a small puff of smoke before grimacing. "Ugh, keep reminding me that those things taste like crap!"  
  
Jack laughed as he took the cigarette back from Spot. "Well, are we'se gettin this show on the road er what?" Spot motioned for them to follow him inside where New York's best poker players were already engaged in heated games. There were also newsies playing craps and younger ones playing marbles.  
  
As the night rolled on by, Spot had flirted with various girls who had come up to him at their own will. Many a time, a courageous one would ask if she could sit on the Brooklyn leader's lap while he gambled and he suavely granted her wish. He loved the attention he received from the young ladies and kissed countless newsgirls within an hour of meeting them. Yet he found himself scanning the room for a sign of Spunks. Their last conversation had gone totally wrong and he wanted to give her another chance.  
  
Then he saw her, and when their eyes locked, she made her way through tight crowds to be next to him. He tried his best to stay mad and forgiving at the same time.  
  
Spunks let her inner self take over. Before she knew what she was doing, she was sitting on Spot's lap and playing with a strand of his hair. "I'se really sorry fer everything. I know it didn't seem like I was that day when, ya know. But me heart broke too as soon as I left. I still love ya, even if youse can't fergive me." She looked into his eyes only now. Their color was a soft blue and were unreadable.  
  
"How could youse say ya love me after what ya did? When youse love someone, ya don't hoit them like ya did." They were talking in whispering tones for Spot was presently sitting at one of the many poker tables and was playing a hand. He tried to concentrate on the cards under his possession, but Spunks' sweet scent of berries invaded his every thoughts.  
  
"We'se can just talk fer now," Spunks suggested. "I'se aint askin youse if I can be yer goil again. I just wanna know that we'se at least friends. I wanna be shoah that if I evah have a problem, I'se can come tah youse fer support, and vice versa." Her hands trailed from his hair down his neck where her fingers felt the cool chain he wore with the key at the end. "Ya know, I meant tah ask youse what the key was fer."  
  
Spot looked at her and his eyes rested on the blouse she was wearing. He remembered that blouse vividly. The feel of it under his tense hands. How delicate the material was and how easily it slid off of Spunks' body. Why had she decided to wear it today? "I found it one day and I promised meself I would only give it tah someone I truly loved, kinda like an engagement ring, ya know?"  
  
"So why haven't ya givin it tah Jenna yet?"  
  
"Actually, we broke up yesterday."  
  
"Oh," Spunks said softly. "I'se sorry." She watched him lose at this game of poker, probably because of her. He told the dealer he would sit out this game and then focused all his attention on Spunks. "Can I wear yer key, Spot? I'se aint got no Valentine tahday and it would really mean a lot if youse would be mines. It doesn't mean we'se in love er anything, just that we'se still good friends. Let it be a kind of truce between us, like the one we made that day in Brooklyn."  
  
Spot replied by unhooking the chain from around his neck and putting it around Spunks'. He looked at her a moment longer. "I still don't fergive youse but I guess we'se can be friends fer now. I've hoid alotta talk, though, from some newsies from The Bronx who are willin tah be more than that wid youse."  
  
The girl gasped. Everything seemed to be going just fine and then Spot had to throw that in! Was that the thing that was really bothering him? The lie that she was a whore? "Fer ya information, me sleepin around was only sumthin I said tah hoit ya even more than you was. It aint true, though. I hold the same ideals as youse! But since yer obviously not interested in makin amends, I'll leave ya tah yer lousy poker game now."  
  
When she was out of sight, one of the newsies at Spot's table snickered. "Damn, that goil shoah looks good tahnight. I'se wonderin if she's just as floity wid strangers as she is wid youse!"  
  
Spot glared at him.  
  
Another newsie joined in. "Heya, I hoid she lives in Manhattan. Why don't ya talk tah her. Maybe youse'll get sumthin from her. A goil that wild has tah be good in bed!" The rotten pair burst out laughing. Spot left them to their foul play. He figured they were all talk and that even if they did introduce their selves to Spunks, she'd be clever enough to know where they were coming from and what they wanted.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Man, that was a crazy night! I think I'se lost more money than I won!"  
  
"That's nothing new, Blink," Mush joked.  
  
Blink charged after him and the two disappeared in the night, leaving Spunks and Race on their own.  
  
"So, I see that youse got Spot's key around yer neck. Ya two woiked things out?"  
  
Spunks held the key tight in her hands and sadly shook her head. "Nah, he blew up on me again. I can't take it anymoah! I'se gonna talk tah him one last time, and if he still can't fergive me, I'se gonna hafta get ovah him." She thought about how depressed he had looked when he was telling her that when you love a person, you don't hurt them as she did. Wasn't that untrue, though? Didn't people constantly hurt the ones they loved? She would definitely tell him that the next time they talked.  
  
"Heya Race! Help me soak this bum!" Race recognized the voice as Blink's and after bidding farewell to Spunks, he hurried off to join his friends.  
  
Spunks shook her head and laughed. Those three fools were always playing pranks on each other. The cool wind of the night blew against her face, rustling the red ribbon she wore in her hair. The sky was spotted with beautiful stars and she gazed up at them with a dreamy look on her face.  
  
Suddenly, she felt two hands grab her from behind and spin her around violently. She found herself looking into the face of a young man she did not know, but who was clearly a newsie.  
  
"Heya sweetheart," he said gruffly, "why don't youse come wid me and play?"  
  
Spunks spit in his face, kicked him in the groin, and freed herself from his grip. Without hesitating, she ran off, but was soon confronted by a second goon who slapped her hard. She fell to the ground with a scream. The first goon was already recovered and came over to her with a wolfish grin. On all fours, she tried to back away but he grabbed her roughly and brought her to her feet. She threw a few punches but only one came into contact with the newsie's face and it wasn't hard enough to stop him.  
  
The second newsie looked at the chain around her neck and ripped it off. "Aww, look, she has Spot's key. Are youse Spot's goil, sweetheart? I'se shoah he wouldn't mind if we enjoy ya fer a night!" He laughed repulsively and she turned her face away in disgust. She made one last attempt to break free but was unsuccessful. She felt a handkerchief go over her eyes and another one go over her mouth.  
  
Then a pair of rough lips caressed her ear and hot breath came out, whispering, "don't worry. As soon as we'se done wid youse, we'll bring ya back tah Spot. And if youse give us a problem, we'll just kill ya." Afterwards, she felt a hard blow pound her head and she was unconscious in seconds.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Spot couldn't sleep that night. He kept thinking about Spunks' apology and how sincere it sounded. Surely she loved him if she still asked for forgiveness after having been humiliated by him twice already publicly. Spot concluded that he just didn't want to rush into a relationship again without being absolutely sure he was in love.  
  
He reflected upon the night. The party had gone well; Brooklyn had won a great amount of money. There was something that bothered him, however. Those two boys that had been sitting at his table aroused some suspicion and worry in him now. They had seemed intent on meeting Spunks that he wondered if they had. After having listened to the rest of their dirty talk for a portion of the night, he had come to the conclusion that they were a pair of perverts who treated ladies like dirt. He drummed his fingers on his bed. Ah, Spot, stop worryin about the goil. She's a pistol, she can probably take on a gang of scabs. But he didn't feel better about the whole matter.  
  
Youse can just send Runnah over tah Manhattan tah check up on her. A minute passed. But youse wanna see her fer yaself, don't ya? Spot rolled his eyes and got off of bed to dress himself. He could simply make a quick stop at Manhattan, ask to speak to Spunks, and then leave after having a quick conversation with her. He snuck out of the Brooklyn Lodging House without awaking anybody and jogged out into the streets. He kept his pace swift and steady. The quicker he got to Manhattan, the quicker his mind could rest at ease.  
  
As he was nearing the bridge that connected Brooklyn to Manhattan, a shiny object on the ground caught his sight. He bent down to pick it up and stared at it with wide eyes. It was his key! And on the ground where it had been lying was a small puddle of blood.  
  
Only one thing came into his mind at that very moment.  
  
Spunks!  
  
He ran the rest of the way to Manhattan, stopping for nothing and no one.  
  
To be continued…… 


End file.
